


Anguish

by Alrightbucky



Series: Catastrophe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: I cried writing this, M/M, Pandemic - Freeform, Scientist peggy, contagious illness, pre serum steve - Freeform, vaccine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alrightbucky/pseuds/Alrightbucky
Summary: There's a pandemic and Bucky has both himself and Steve to save





	

It started off slow, but then again, it always did. They were used to Steve becoming sick, it was a cold one day and crippling sickness the next.  
But this time was slower than most, much slower. And it wasn’t just Steve. Soon the news channels were full of victims who had succumbed to the sickness. Bucky was worried, he worried constantly about Steve as it was, and now there was this virus going around and Steve was so vulnerable to it. It was terrifying seeing the effects on the TV.  
The government were trying… or they said they were, they had sectioned off a small area of a couple of states, as long as they could control the outbreak it would be okay. They promised the country every day, but it was a plague and there was no stopping it, the president spoke out when the virus started to move to other states, stating that they have an epidemic on their hands.  
More and more people were becoming paranoid about it, carrying hand gel around with them, wearing latex gloves, face masks, head scarfs, nobody was taking any chances.  
There were commercials asking for donations, scientists all over the country were trying to find a way to stop the disease, trying anything to find a cure or a way to prevent it in the first place.  
But more and more people were becoming hospitalized, people trying to check in when they weren’t even sick, scared and thinking only a hospital would keep the virus at bay.  
Until doctors started getting sick. The nurses and Surgeons and receptionists, were all dropping like flies as well as they rest of the population.  
The news reporters were still trying to calm everyone down, insisting that the government were doing all they could to stop the outbreak.  
But everybody knew that was just a way to give everyone fake hope.  
There were cordoned off areas in every state by the second month.  
It was an infectious disease. The only way to avoid it was to quarantine yourself off.  
When it first started, people smart enough had stockpiled food and supplies and had locked themselves away hoping for the best.  
Those who didn’t were still risking it all by heading to the shops every week or so.  
Bucky was worried, not only for himself but Steve was sick, he was getting sicker and there was no doing anything about it.  
They sat together on their bed or on the couch, laid wrapped around each other, Bucky stroking Steve’s hair, humming softly, reassuring him and rubbing his back when Steve sat up coughing so hard he fell wheezing back against Bucky’s chest.  
Bucky wanted to do everything he could for him, but he still had hope despite everything, Steve was okay, he was sick but it wasn’t too bad yet.  
He loved Steve endlessly, and was worried in case he caught the virus. Not for him, but how on earth could he protect and love Steve with every fibre of his being if he went and died.  
Steve had a fever that just wouldn’t stay down, his skin felt like it was on fire to Bucky whenever he touched him.  
Steve apologized so often.  
_Sorry for being sick_  
 _Sorry for taking up all of Bucky’s time_  
Sorry for being so susceptible to illnesses  
Sorry for having a temperature  
Sorry for falling asleep so often  
and sorry for waking up in the night  
Bucky wanted to slap and shake him and tell him he loved him and there was literally nothing on earth he should be sorry for.  
“Stevie, stop apolagising so much, you don’t need to be”  
“But I don’t want to be a burden on you” Steve frowned  
“Shut your pretty mouth you could never be a burden to me”  
“Bucky… how come you haven’t caught it yet?”  
Bucky thought about this very question a lot, there were people who were catching it for seemingly no reason at all and here he was spending every hour with Steve and he was still perfectly healthy.  
“I don’t know… maybe I’m immune” he joked and Steve smiled  
“I hope so”  
Bucky didn’t think he was immune… he couldn’t be, how could he be?

When Steve fell asleep against him, his hair tickling his nose he slowly fell into sleep too. Dreaming about becoming the cure, if he was immune… they could use his blood, his DNA to create a vaccine… He dreamt about Steve being healthy and smiling up at him from behind a sketch book, he dreamt there were diseased people running down the streets, banging on Bucky’s door screaming for help.  
He was shocked awake when Steve starting coughing and retching against him,  
“I’m sorry” Steve said weakly and Bucky kissed him on the forehead, rubbing up and down his arms as he shivered.  
“You’re okay, I’ve got you” he promised, making a vow right there and then that he needed to figure out if he had some sort of immunity, if he did, and if it could help Steve, why the hell hadn’t he done something about it yet?

The next morning Bucky carried Steve easily into their bedroom, tucking the covers in around him, promising he’ll be back,  
“Just call if you need me” he made Steve promise.  
There was a hospital not too far away, there weren’t many cars on the streets nowadays; people were terrified.  
So Bucky walked down the roads, it took about 15 minutes, checking his phone every 10 seconds _just in case.  
_ Once he got there nurses rushed over, obviously assuming he was sick, he held his hands up in defence, “No, no I’m okay, who can I speak to about a vaccination?” he asked, the people around him shot him strange looks, there was no vaccine, what was he going on about.  
He was pointed in a direction with one of the doctors, who showed him into door 107.  
There were test tube and bottles and it was a total science lab. And almost right in the middle sat on an office chair, spinning slightly was a young woman, she looked up at him in confusion when he entered.  
“My name’s Bucky, and I don’t know why I’m not sick” he explained, her name badge said _Margaret_.  
Margaret listened as he described Steve and when he asked again, why he wasn’t sick she smiled softly at him, “You’re hoping you have immunity able to provide a vaccine?” it wasn’t really a question.  
She took some blood and Bucky waited, hovering over her as she inspected it.  
She sat back after a few minutes, and smiled shakily at him, “well?” he asked

Margaret shook her head.  
“I’m really sorry”  
“I’m not immune?” Bucky asked  
“no you’re not” she said sadly  
“but then I don’t understand… how haven’t I caught the virus?” he asked thinking back to all the times he’d kissed and touched Steve.  
“You have” Margaret said.  
Oh. The way she delivered the news was like a kick in the teeth. How was he supposed to go home to Steve and tell him this.  
“Wait why are you still in the room, I’m going to infect you!” he suddenly panicked but she smiled again  
“No you won’t”  
Bucky looked at her and realised, “you have it too” he acknowledged and still she smiled.  
“That’s why those nurses looked at me strangely when I asked for someone about a vaccine… and that’s why that doctor didn’t come even to the doorway”. Margaret let Bucky figure it all out because she spoke  
“I’m appalled that they let you in here… if you hadn’t of had it already, we’re still a hospital after all, we’re not in the business of getting people sick”.  
She was still looking at him with such sympathy and he could feel his breath coming out shakily.  
“How… do I tell him?” he asked  
“I don’t know” she admitted “do you really have to?” she then asked and Bucky thought for a few moments, “maybe not” he agreed, “what’s going to happen? We’ll just die together? Why do I not seem sick?” he asked her  
“The symptoms are slower with some people, and different people have different symptoms anyway. I’ve had it for a few weeks, I know I’m sick but I’m not _sick_ yet, you know? You will get ill Bucky, I’m sorry you just will”  
The fact that she only answered one of his questions answered them all.  
“Thank you, Margaret” he said eyeing the petri dish of his own infected blood in front of her.  
“Peggy” she gave him another warm smile, embracing him in a hug before he turned away to leave.

 

The short walk home seemed to take 4 hours longer than it had on the way to the hospital, he let himself into the apartment and went to the bedroom, Steve was asleep, he looked small, smaller than usual, he’d lost weight, his collar bones were sticking out more than usual, his cheekbones more prominent, his wrists looked so delicate like just by Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed they might snap.  
He laid himself down beside him slowly so as not to wake him, he desperately wanted to reach out and pull him into his arms but he needed to sleep. So Bucky laid looking at how his eyelashes looked fanned out against his cheeks and how his lips were slightly parted, breathing out of his mouth, he was half hugging the cover to his chest, it felt like he was seeing him for the first time in a while, feeling almost nostalgic as he watched him sleep.  
He couldn’t tell him could he? Steve would worry and it would make him sicker and he hated making him worry even in perfect health.  
How was it going to feel to die with Steve?  
How was it going to feel if Steve died first and Bucky had to suffer to his own end all alone?  
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut praying for sleep but instead tears just started to roll down from between his eyelashes, over the bridge of his nose.  
He must have eventually drifted into sleep because he woke up the next morning with the sun rise, Steve was still how he had looked the night before and Bucky panicked shaking him awake.  
“What?” Steve mumbled and Bucky breathed the biggest sigh of relief  
“Nothing… sorry baby” Bucky leaned down and kissed the top of his hand.  
“You thought I was dead” Steve sounded like he was laughing at Bucky, it was so like Steve, to make death jokes at his own expense.  
“It’s okay, I threw up about 200 times whilst you were out yesterday, guess I was exhausted” Steve explained and Bucky felt like a pile of bricks had fallen on top of him.  
“Baby why didn’t you tell me?” he asked  
“I was asleep” Steve stated the obvious smirking from behind the covers.

Days like this were good days. Steve was in a good mood, making jokes and kissing Bucky and his washed his hair and painted Bucky’s toes in the sparkly nail polish they had acquired at least a year before.  
Bucky managed to get him to eat, he made cheese toasties and they had coffee and Steve kept it all down.  
Half way through his cheese toasty Bucky started coughing, he instantly panicked which only made it worse, looking at Steve who looked worried already he laughed, “toast crumbs” he said as his eyes watered.  
It wasn’t fair that they didn’t know at the time, but it had to get better before it got worse, and that day was the last good day they really had together.  
The next day Steve was being sick again, falling in and out on consciousness, Bucky was able to get him to drink water, giving him painkillers every few hours.  
The day after Steve slept most of the day which was a blessing because Peggy’s words rang in Bucky’s ears all day about how different people sometimes had different symptoms.     
He started coughing, uncontrollably, he thought he was about to be sick so he’d gone to hide in the bathroom, covering his mouth with his hands and when he moved them away they were scarlet with blood. Leaning over the sink Bucky coughed and heaved, coughing up blood which the bright red looked even worse against the brilliant white of the sink. He stood up straight taking a deep breath as he saw himself in the mirror, he had bloodstained lips, and it had dripped down his chin. He looked like a zombie, his face was pale and it wasn’t good. Coughing up blood was never a good sign, even Bucky knew that.

It seemed like Bucky’s visit to the hospital had only made everything worse, Steve was deteriorating and so was Bucky. He’d cleaned himself up and gone another few days successfully keeping Steve in the dark, until he started coughing in his sleep, waking up to Steve sat watching him worriedly.  
Bucky was hoping to brush it off as a simple cold but there was blood on his pillow.  
“Not even a little bit immune then?” Steve asked sounding like all the breath had been knocked out of his body.  
“I’m sorry” it was Bucky’s turn to apologise.  
Steve sank down again, this time holding Bucky who was coughing again. Bucky pulled away from him when he again ended up with handfuls of blood, only to crawl back into Steve’s arms a few minutes later, blood drying on his lips.

It was a week later, Bucky woke up, feeling a lot better than he had been lately, he rolled to face Steve, who was laid flat on his back, his right arm hanging off the side of the bed, lips slightly parted like they always were when he slept, his skin looked as soft as it always did but lighter, much paler than usual. Bucky jumped up with such speed he had to lean his head down on the bed for a few seconds to get his balance back. He was shaking Steve, putting his hands on his chest to feel for his heart.  
He’d never resuscitated anyone before but he was pushing down on Steve’s chest in wild hope that there was anything he could do. He screamed out, grabbing the lamp that sat on the table beside Steve and threw it across the room, hearing it smash against the wall, he rested his head on Steve’s chest sobs ripping through his body until he had to lean over the edge of the bed to throw up.  
He laid down next to Steve, wrapping his arms around the love of his life and hugging him into him like he had done so many times before.

Eventually Bucky had to sit up when he started coughing, coughing up mouthful after mouthful of blood, until he was sat with a pile of it on the bed in front of him, smeared across his feet, the far too still body of Steve still next to him.

He didn’t know what to do.  
So he left it all, he left Steve and the blood and the smashed lamp and crashed onto the couch, making his knuckles bleed against the wall.  
He switched the TV on which he couldn’t even believe was still working. His life had just ended, he felt as if the world should be in ruins.  
The pandemic was apparently still news.

The next day Bucky was feeling weak and ill and tired and he still had the mess of the bedroom to sort out even though he really couldn’t just yet.  
He was still sat on the couch when there was a knock on the door.  
Dragging himself up he went to open it.  
Peggy stood there a hopeful smile on her face, she looked pale and sick just like Bucky. They made quite a pair.  
“Thought I could finally meet Steve?” She asked and Bucky stared at her still not having said anything.  
“Bucky?” She prompted him and he pointed to the bedroom door expecting a scream or something when she went in.  
It was about 5 seconds later she came back out.  
“I lost my husband. And my niece” she said, eyes full of sympathy, and hugged Bucky.

She stayed for a while, helping him clear out the room. She called someone for Steve, saying Bucky could say goodbye if he wanted. He couldn’t even look at him.  
A few hours later she finally announced why she had come round.  
“This” she said pulling out a needle,  
“Are you going to kill me?” Bucky asked hoping she would say yes.

"This is a gift. A cure, well hopefully" she said and Bucky had to resist the urge to grab the needle out of her hand and smash it against the wall. "It's the best I've got... It just needs a tester, and I figured you..." She trailed off,  "I've got nothing to lose?" Bucky asked and she nodded gently. "No" he refused, but Peggy wasn't done encouraging him,  "I didn't know Steve, I wish I had gotten the chance to get to know him but I know, I really do, I know he wouldn't have wanted you to do this". Bucky knew she was right. He hated it but she really was right. 

He let her push the needle into his skin. He'd let her take Steve away and was now letting her use him as some kind of Guinea pig. He hoped it wouldn't work. There was literally no reason for him to be alive,  he'd given everything to Steve and Steve had given him the disease, but the point was Steve had given it to him and he was meant to die. 

"You'll thank me later Bucky" Peggy insisted clearly confident in the drug and he looked at her blankly wondering why he couldn't even feel pain anymore. 

It took a week. That was all, for him to notice the improvement, he felt stronger and he hadn't coughed up anything or been sick or barely coughed even at all, he was getting better. He kept Peggy informed but knowing he'd never forgive her for not coming even two days earlier. He realistically was aware it would've been too late for Steve anyway. But he didn't even get to try.

The news started to change, things were becoming more positive, "the pandemic is on its way to being cured" the news reader was saying and three months later they were talking about it like it had happened long in the past. 

Bucky bought a new apartment not baring to live in that one without Steve to be there with him, he was trying to live his life, but it was the hardest thing he could even think about doing, most of the time he laid in a bed he had once slept in with Steve and wondered if he'd ever be okay about that. He saw Peggy more often, she'd saved his life after all. She'd saved everyone.  He'd wander round shops feeling lost without having to buy the cereal Steve loved and he watched watched horrible sappy lovey cartoons, he didn't watch the news anymore. It made him impossibly angry the way they pretended a third of the population hadn't just died.  

Everybody had lost people. That's what had happened, it hadn't just been an infectious disease, it had wreaked anguish across the globe. 


End file.
